Years later my mother
returned looking tired and gray. Her soft beauty was only a memory
that was never mine to know. She brought with her tales of the
sickness and disease in the west. Of the red bearded and yellow
bearded wild men who raced across the grasslands on horseback
conquering villages and spreading disease in their wake.

Those men had attacked
the village Sonia and mother was visiting. With the villagers
weakened by disease there was no hope of defense. All were lost, and
Sonia . Beautiful Red Sonia was captured and taken away by the men
who looked so much like her.

This news struck me
harder than I would ever understand. My sister and I had never been
close, but knowing that she was gone caused a strange effect in me. I
began to apply myself even harder to please my mother. I was
seventeen at the time of my mothers return. Within three years I had
finally mastered the healing arts. But even with this skill I could
do nothing to save her. Sonia was her world; sorrow filled her
swelling her feet and joints of her hand. Her once proud features
seemed to collapse in on its self, her spine curved, shrinking her
more and more each day. Now the healer lay immobilized by her broken
heart. The pain she felt was more than any one could bear.

She took to wandering
listlessly around the village, young children and dogs tagging after.
Memory and morals left as the season dragged on, depression filled in
their wake.

During the first days
of fall, when wicked autumnal winds blew down from the mountains ,
she wandered into the forest with no intent of return.

Several days later
children found her sitting propped against a tree. A jagged smile
stretched across her face, the shaft of a spear protruding from her
breast.

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